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Wednesday, December 28, 2011

This guy got my number and then called me. He was from BC. He sounded fairly normal on the phone but got sidetracked by a long story about... not sure what. He didn't get to the point after 5 minutes so I got off the phone. He sent me a text the following day acknowledging his nerves got the better of him and tried arranging a date. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. However a single girl should never text and this is why: things started to bog down (i.e. Date, Time, Location); he couldn't quite make the plunge, so I deleted his messages. This got his attention enough to force his hand, and he planned a date at a tequila bar on Ossington. However, it took way too long and I began to smell a rat. Text messages always leave me cold.

He texted again in the early afternoon of date day to confirm. Which would have been great if he hadn't also asked me to describe myself. Never describe yourself by text if your pic is posted online. It will either be too modest and sound ugly or too good and sound insincere. It's a waste of time. Besides, He was trying to talk himself out of it and I should have let him. Instead I told him not to be nervous and that he would recognize me.

What showed up was a greasy thinning-haired "creative director" with a huge chip on his shoulder. He did not offer to buy me a drink. This date was terrible because he was deliberately impolite. He spoke without moving his jaw, which is totally unnerving and it indicates a very guarded nature. Men who can not move their mouths make bad lovers.

He was into rapid-fire, cleverly random conversation. Example: "It's like that episode of Perry Mason. Except without the milkshakes." It was entirely developed to keep the other person off balance. It created a lot of awkward silences...only he found himself very entertaining. Topics included: planes that use slip'n'slides to land, the marketing genius of Red Bull and his travels to Australia. If I tried to join in (as in, "I like Australia") he would immediately begin bashing the topic. For example, he ordered a tequila and tomato juice. He then went into a long story about how tequila tastes better with tomato juice as if he had invented it. When I agreed with him, saying I liked it with Clamato juice, he began to choke and spit saying it was disgusting, etc. This guy was clearly raised by wolves. Very embarrassing.

After 10 minutes of this I told him that I wasn't quite as clever and that it was getting stressful trying to keep up. And for five full minutes he acted like a genuine human being. He turned his body toward me, he spoke slowly and clearly and I warmed up. Then I made the mistake of asking what he did for a living after he told a long work-related story. At this point, the giant chip on his shoulder grew back and he mocked me for asking. I just stared at him in silence and he mumbled some job description. I can't help you if you are embarrassed by your job, boyo. That's your deal.

When the bartender cleared my first drink, I ordered water. Something about this enraged him. He said accusingly, "You switched to water fast. Why aren't you drinking". I looked at my water curiously because I was under the impression that drinking water was still an acceptable practice in Canada. "I'm still drinking. I'm just drinking water" ... Then I paused, and said "What was your real question?"

This broke him.

He squared his body to the bar, gripped the edge of the bar with both hands and seemed to control an angry outburst like the Incredible Hulk. He turned to me while grabbing his coat and said "I'm going to shove off now." I said "Ok!" with a smile. He began to make a long explanation but my eyes were drifting around the bar, "Good!" I said sweetly, cutting him off. Then I turned my back to him and picked up phone to check my messages. This caused an abrupt attitude change. He became warm and engaging again. "So...", he said "I understand you've been to 31 countries..,".

"We covered that" I said distractedly tapping at my phone.

"No, but where else would you like-" and at that point I gently put my hand over my ear and blocked his noise. He disappeared.

Full Disclosure: This date was nowhere near me, causing me to arrive early and pay for my own drink. No! This date was planned by text. Double No! This man was immediately argumentative. Triple No!

Friday, December 16, 2011

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful 28 year old woman who met a beautiful 36 year old man. They fell instantly in love and their chemistry was electric. But the man was not happy. Maybe mommy hadn’t loved him enough. Maybe daddy had hit him once too often. Or touched him. The man never said what the problem was.

The man could see clearly that the woman loved him. And for some reason, this enraged him. He sought to do everything in his power to destroy her.
He lied.
He cheated with other women.
He was unreliable and stood her up.
She cried, she begged, she never retaliated, she kept stating the obvious.

“I love you.”

The fact that she stayed enraged him further. He wanted to destroy not just her, or her love, but her hope that anyone would ever love her.
So he lied more. He would rather lie than do anything at all.
He insulted her to her face.
He cheated with more women.
He was more unreliable, showing up at her family’s house drunk at odd hours.
He ran her into the ground.
He posted nearly naked pictures of her on the internet.

All while asking her for sex in his darkest hours.

The sex relaxed him. If he could just keep fucking her, his hatred subsided. But as soon as it was over, he was consumed with hatred. So one day, he did the meanest thing he could think of; he told he was coming to visit for Christmas. He told her he had a present for her.

And got in his car and moved away. He moved to a different country. No address, no phone, no email. He simply disappeared.

It was the silence that destroyed the woman.

(4 years passed)

The woman was older and wiser. Her grandmother had died, so had her father. She had always felt uncomfortable at Christmas because she had no family but she had spent the last 4 years building her friendship base. She was dating. No one special yet, but lots of interesting people. She was looking forward to Christmas. At the very least, she was going to make the very best of it.

Then in early December the man contacted the woman. He was lonely, he was horny, and he was bored. He sent a text but did not address her by name. He did not state his own name. He wrote like he simply assumed that she was single and waiting for him. He told her missed “certain things” about her. He asked her how she was.

The woman did not immediately recognize the number. But she could sense the ground moving beneath her feet. It took 2 days for the shock to wear off. But underneath there was anger. She did not want her Christmas to be ruined by this person. She felt very protective of the new found freedom that she had gained in 4 years. She felt pain. And it caused her to feel anger.

She finally understood how the man had felt all this time. How all his pain had created his anger. But she did not want to destroy him. She felt sorry for him. She did the nicest thing she could do. She just deleted the message.

Friday, December 9, 2011

We live in a Cult of the Exceptional. Everyone wants to be special at something. And by extension, everyone wants their boyfriends or husband to be special at something. It gives us a boost of self esteem at cocktail parties. It makes it easier to achieve orgasm if the guy you are fucking used to be a golf pro in his 20s. Am I right?

This essay will be in response to my previous essay “Why Handsome Men/ Alpha Males Make Terrible Boyfriends” which elicited some comments from an anonymous reader. She argued that perhaps the handsome man was just “shy” and that I shouldn’t group people into narrow categories. First of all, let me say that ALL “anonymous” comment makers are cowardly pussies. Second, if you read The Rules you would know how silly it is to confuse a man that is not interested in you, with a man that suffers from social anxiety, or shyness. It is incredibly arrogant, Single Girl, to assume that there is something medically wrong with a man who is merely “just not that interested in you”. And it is comment makers like her that are proof of the uphill battle that I face everyday with otherwise intelligent women who have the wrong idea about men and dating.

I have dated 54 different live human males and one woman recently sad to me in passing, “Why are they all bad?”. This is incredibly misguided and short-sighted given how much I have learned during this time. But it goes to show the kind of fireworks women are expecting from a simple drinks date with a stranger. The first thing that you must abandon when you try Online dating is your stupid little girl expectations. If he was such a catch, he would be married by now…or at least not divorced. And if you were such a catch, so would you, Single Girl.

If you are doing The Rules, the most you can expect from a man after a simple drinks date (Date Zero) is a second date. That’s it. If he calls within the next few days and asks you out again, then you can consider it a WILD success. If he calls within the next few days from a Turkish prison then better luck next week. But the thing to note is that even if it’s a HUGE failure, it only means that your phone stays silent. Online Dating isn’t going to be magic each and every time. And you are stupidly delusional to expect that.

Let’s not forget that men want Exceptional too. If you are looking for a single, handsome successful doctor who volunteers, goes to church and is handy in the kitchen, garage and bedroom ….then guess what? He’s looking for the same damn thing. If you are looking for a man who is rich enough to drive a Porsche, guess what? He probably wants to trade up in life, not down. This is why you must “LISTEN and OBSERVE” when on your dates as The Rules suggest. It’s a matter of BUYER BEWARE or you maybe getting into a power struggle or endless achievement contest with a man who is unsure of himself. Take note, Single Girl, that true authenticity is not flashy. Emotional maturity is not easily noticed across the room. Prudence, virtue and courage don’t make the front covers of magazines.

Case in point: I know a beautiful young woman who put a slightly-less-than-flattering pic of herself on her online profile. That, coupled with her good-but-not-exceptional-profession of “teacher” kept her inbox a little light. However, when a serious young accountant did invite her on a date, she showed up prettier and more vivacious than he could have imagined. It’s been 2 years and he still talks about how impressed he was to meet her that first night. He felt like he won the jackpot. It’s an interesting lesson.

My belief is that in the Cult of the Exceptional, the Average man is King. I want to meet a serious, hard-working family –oriented man. That’s my wish. Of course, he will come with hobbies, and small family squabbles and peculiar habits. But in truth he will be average and that will be beautiful. I don’t have too much more to say about him because there are so few of these men around. I do know that I don’t want a man that fills my friends with jealousy. I don’t want a man that is jaded or movie star handsome or drives a car that screams “I’m vain”. I want a humble honest life and I want a man that knows the value of it.

Friday, December 2, 2011

I hate being right all the time. I should have known better than to accept rides from strangers (at work) but there you have it. A Rules Girl always remembers to listen and observe. A gracious person remembers to never offer unsolicited advice, especially when getting a free ride.

I did neither of these things.

Let me begin by saying women in their 30s who are not married walk a very fine line. They fight to remain single, happy and carefree without appearing uninterested in marriage. They date. They remain happy and excited for friends who get married. They are lovely and charming and yet have no idea how to answer the (rude) dinner party question of “Why aren’t you married?”; which is then followed by “When are you getting married?” if she does stupidly show up anywhere with a man; which is then followed by “When are you having a baby?” if she stupidly shows up anywhere with her husband.

Negotiating a relationship – especially online – is something best done in private. But being single is like being famous. Everybody wants to know the latest development. Immediately. No matter how small. No matter how stupid. No matter how embarrassing. In fact – like celebrity – the worse the date for a Single Girl, the more social currency she gets.

For example, I once told a girlfriend a story about having to blow dry my own hair at a fancy hair salon after I unwittingly failed to make a blow dry appt. (My lady at Supercutz always made sure my hair was dry when I left). I was so embarrassed when they sat me in a dark corner of the salon and handed me a blow dryer that I had to plug in myself (after I untangled the cord) that I was actually paralyzed with embarrassment for 60 seconds. Then I started to quietly weep. This story was so bad that a dear friend actually shared it with her whole extended family at THANKGIVING SUPPER. They laughed until they wept.

This is what it is like to share dating stories. People will share your worst moments with everyone on Planet Earth.

The Rules remind us that we never discuss relationships with our co-workers or mothers. Unless you have a bonafide announcement, there is nothing to talk about. Bonafide announcements include evidence to back up your claim. Consider the following:

“Hello. This is my boyfriend, John.” Evidence: A man stands up, smiles, shakes your hand and makes small talk about how great his girlfriend.

“Yes, it is an engagement ring. John proposed and I accepted.” Evidence: ring that sparkles on hand

“Yes, I am pregnant. John and I are going to have a baby.” Evidence: awkwardly gigantic stomach / new clothes that are ugly.

Everything else is hyperbole, that is; everything else is exaggeration of a fact that has not been proven yet. Telling people you are going to do something that does not happen creates undue tension. It also means you are living in a fantasy relationship. This is a relationship that exists entirely in your own head. It is often very dramatic. It always ends in tears.

From my experience, moving in with your boyfriend actually stalls the relationship. Both of you are happy to have a live-in fuck buddy but neither one of you knows what to do next. He’s getting the milk for free and you …face it, he’s not that great close up. You are not going to buy a car together. You buy pets because you are not going to get pregnant anytime soon. It drains the romance from relationship. You don’t know whether to buy curtains because in your heart, you don’t know if you are staying. Couples playing house have really empty condos. Neither one knows if they should decorate to their taste. Because they never talk about it. There is no plan.

And everyone else watching this? We can tell it’s not a love match. And so we don’t congratulate you. We don’t know what to do. We just pretend to not see what is staring us in the face. And we leave you to your fantasy relationship.

But back to my car ride from hell. We were driving along and I said:

“Is this your car?” (She had previously told me that she did not have one)

“No, this is my boyfriend’s car”

“Well it’s very nice”

“He says it’s “our car”

…long silence…not sure what response she wants from me…”Oh”…

“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

(genuine surprise given that she met this guy 3 months ago and the last guy she was dating was actually married…to another woman)

Me: “Has he proposed?”

Her: “Well…Not properly”

“Oh”

“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“I do, but he wants to get married in August and I’m like what’s the rush?”

“Oh”

“He wants to get married in August, but I’m like what’s the rush?”

So I changed the subject and said:

“There’s my condo. You should buy one there too and we could walk to work. Wouldn’t that be great?”

Her: “Actually, I’m moving in with my boyfriend in January”

And here is where I should have shut the hell up. She obviously wanted me to believe that she was in a committed relationship. If she wants a fantasy relationship I should let her have it. But I had to open my big fat mouth:

Me: “Don’t move in with him”

Her: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, he hasn’t proposed…I’m trying to be a good friend to you”

Her: “But he WANTS TO GET MARRIED IN AUGUST AND I’M LIKE WHAT’S THE RUSH!”

I personally love it when people start to shout. It reminds me of home. It makes me wants to jump on the bed and break dishes on the floor in a really excited/psycho way.

Me: “I get it but …”

Her: “I’m not like you. I don’t believe in that Rules bullshit. All my friends have moved in with their boyfriends.”(This is the old Everyone Is Doing It Defense employed by drunken 15 year olds)

“And how long have they been married?”

(silence)

I can really feel she is on the ropes and so now I have to go in for the kill.

Like the bitch that I am.

Me: “Think about it, if he really wants to get married in August won’t he be mad when you don’t?

Her: (dead fucking silence) *

Me: “And wives usually mean babies…”

Her: “BUT I WANT TO HAVE BABIES!”

(That jumping/ breaking feeling is bubbling in me again)

Me: “Then why won’t you marry him?” (here I go… may God forgive me)

Her: “BUT WE WILL GET MARRIED!!!”

Me: “But look at your fingers. He hasn’t proposed”. And I laughed in her face.

The level of violence that came out of her mouth was amazing. She told me I was rude, that I liked conflict, that I was the Anti-Christ. No, I made that last one up. But she was really mad. It reminded me of the famous saying

“The first response to the truth is anger”.

I told her in a calm voice that she knew nothing about me (which is true) and this infuriated her all the more. She pulled over and dropped on the side of the highway and I had to walk home. I consider it my penance.

Learn from my mistakes, Dear Reader; whether you are a dyed-in-the-wool Rules Girl, or a woman living with her boyfriend and playing house, do not expect the person at the other end of the spectrum to ever understand. Agree to disagree and live happily ever after.

UPDATE SPRING 2013: August came and went with no proposal, no engagement and no marriage. He did move in but in less than six months he moved out again and the relationship was over.

* Dear Reader, men aren’t kidding when they finally DO mention marriage all by themselves. If a man walks up to you and says with a straight face, “Do you want to get married in August?” he is NOT FUCKING AROUND. Take him seriously. Especially if you are having – or just had – amazing sex. An offer is about to be on the table. He’s not going to wait forever. He shouldn’t need to convince you that August is a good month. You should be on the same wavelength. You need to actually consider the possibility of spending every non-work hour of the rest of your life doing something that pertains to him. Brace yourself because: YOU WILL NEED TO HAVE AN ANSWER. It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure book. You have two options:

Option #1: Yes. Congratulations! This means you are now “engaged”. He will then give you a ring to prove his sincerity and call his parents.

Options #2: Every other word in every other language in the history of the world. It doesn’t matter which combination because they will all means the same thing: No. You are now back to being single. But be honest with yourself. It was you who didn't want to marry him.